The Hookup Experiment Read Online Crystal Kaswell

Categories Genre: Insta-Love Tags Authors: Crystal Kaswell Advertisement1

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Only that I never would have seen it without her.

I would never have understood without her.

Is it still an excuse? I don't know.

She was a life raft, and I was drowning.

What else could I have done?

I wanted, so badly, to understand why my sister took her life, and there she was, an open book. I fell in love with the honesty. The understanding. The openness.

I got addicted to the feeling of taking.

I didn't need my life raft anymore. I wasn't thriving, but I was treading water. I was surviving.

I understood.

Not enough. But enough to go out on my own and look for understanding.

I didn't see it. I told myself I didn't know enough. And, yeah, I kept reading, and I kept learning.

But it was more than an intellectual or emotional curiosity.

I fell in love with her.

Here.

And then there.

I didn't know at first. At least, I didn't think I knew. But maybe I always did. Maybe some part of me knew I captured some part of her.

Maybe that's why I answered her call.

Okay, that's BS. It's because she's fine as fuck.

Okay, that's BS too. She is fine as fuck. But I wasn't accepting booty calls at that point. It was the way she looked at me, the way she asked, point-blank for what she wanted.

I told myself this was my insight into her head, and it was.

But she was always honest with me.

I was always the one who shied away.

No more.

I'm trying to pour my heart out.

But it's really fucking hard. How the hell does she do this every week? Twice a week?

Every day sometimes.

"A Mistake"

One Trick Pony

Friday August 4th, 11 P.M.

Dear Diary,

She's braver than I am. She always will be. But I can try to do the right thing. I can try to share. I love her. That isn't going to change.

I didn't want to face it either.

I didn't want to look at where I hurt.

How could I open myself up to this? To someone who tried? Who might try again?

I wanted, so badly, to be strong enough I didn't care. I told myself I didn't care.

And in some ways, that was true.

I didn't care in the sense it was a deal breaker.

But I cared… I cared in every bone in my body.

Because some part of me thought hey, I can do it right this time.

I won't mess it up this time.

And as long as I have access to every one of her thoughts, as long as she can't hide the truth?

Well… I can do that.

But that was always bullshit.

Because she can still hide.

Even if she's honest here—and she is, more than anyone I've ever met—she can hide from herself.

I loved that she didn't, that she strove for full disclosure. I still love it.

But nothing is forever.

This might not be forever.

I told myself I deserved to see into her head. I earned it.

Because D hid.

But that's bullshit.

Yeah, my sister didn't share with me. But she didn't owe me that. And, even if she did, there's no spying karma.

Once I knew who she was—

It was wrong to keep reading.

And, yes, I did it because I needed it, because I craved it, because I loved it.

Because I loved her.

But that doesn't make it okay.

I didn't want to apologize because I can't apologize for falling in love with her here.

I can't apologize for craving her words.

But that isn't where I went wrong.

I knew I needed to tell her.

I knew she was pulling away, and I knew I needed to do the hard thing and talk to her in person.

I knew honesty and vulnerability were a two-way street. It wasn't fair to pull back at the first sign of resistance.

It was bullshit, like my friend said, and worse, because I knew it was bullshit.

I still wrestle with it. I know it's not right, but I still think don't I deserve to know?

Don't I deserve this insight, after everything?

I want it, every one of her thoughts.

I'm terrified.

I can't lose her too.

And I know control isn't love. But it didn't feel like control. It felt like some kind of hack. Maybe it was. But, whatever happens, I have to let go too.

I have to find the bravery she has.

How the fuck do I do that?

Chapter Fifty

IMOGEN

I spend the night in my old room. I read over my old journals, the paper ones I locked in my desk, the ones I kept on Word Docs, the entry on Hearts and Thorns.

And then everything he's left for me.

Finally, after my third read through, I turn on my phone.

And I reply to his text.

Imogen: I can come over tonight.

Patrick: Is 10 too late? I have work.

Imogen: 10 works.

Patrick: You sure? We can wait until tomorrow.

Imogen: Do you want to wait?

Patrick: No.

Imogen: What time do you get to Inked Love?

Patrick: Two. Are you in Orange County?

Imogen: How'd you know?

Patrick: Your sister texted me.


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